


Empty

by rainbowskissors



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:28:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25232410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowskissors/pseuds/rainbowskissors
Summary: What if Eliza hadn't been able to forgive Alexander?
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler, Alexander Hamilton/Maria Reynolds
Comments: 10
Kudos: 24





	Empty

**Author's Note:**

> my sis and i had a whole idea for a storyline where eliza doesn't forgive ham and he finds comfort in maria and blah blah blah
> 
> but that's for another time, for now here's a standalone fic

-

“Just let me stay here by your side. That would be enough.”

I almost feel pity.

Alexander is crying in front of me, tears trickling down his cheeks. His face is screwed into a mass of hurt, begging for forgiveness.

For what he’d done. For how he’d broken my heart numerous times after promising he’d be mine forever.

I thought you were mine, Alexander. But you’ve proved me wrong in so many ways.

I hope you’re satisfied with yourself.

He is holding his hand out to me, as if it were that night at the Winter’s Ball when we had first met. That dreamlike night that still feels so surreal to me.

For a moment, I’m tempted to let him take it again, to whisk me away with his letters of love.

His declarations of loyalty, his claims of faith. To let him carry me away to a world where everything is okay. Where everything is perfect, and wonderful, and beautiful.

But things are different now, and I am not about to give my heart to Alexander again if there is a risk that he would break it. I simply stare down at him, watching him grovel at my feet.

There is not an ounce of pity in my gaze. Not after what he’d put me through.

His eyes flash with so many emotions at once.

Pain. Grief. Anger. Sadness. Fear. Regret.

I wince at the last one.

I know I’m a kind person. I know full well I have the capacity to forgive.

But I’d never given my heart away to anyone. I’d never made myself vulnerable, exposed myself to someone.

Someone I thought loved me.

That is what differentiated this from any other time.

I’d let my guard down for him, and this is where it got me.

A cheating husband, a dead son, and neck-deep into an abyss of debt.

I’d given my heart to Alexander Hamilton, and he’d raked it through the mud when he brought that Maria girl into our house.

My nose curls as I think of her sitting on the very bed where Alexander used to hold me close and whisper in my ear, all his dreams for our family.

A family that was torn apart when Philip was killed.

A death he could have prevented, had he not been so obsessed with his pride and his legacy.

When had he learned that we are his legacy, not his political affairs and scandals and problems?

When it was too late.

“I’m sorry, Alexander. But I cannot forgive you,” I tell him, before whisking my cloak around me and entering the house again, leaving him alone in the garden.

I hear his wretched sobs echoing throughout the garden, a cry to the world in agony.

I can’t look at him. This man, who’d stolen my heart. Who’d promised me that we would have a life, a family together.

Who’d caused me so much sorrow and heartbreak at night.

There were times when I would sit in bed, alone, wondering why.

Why hadn’t I been enough for him?

Why couldn’t I have satisfied him?

Why had he needed that Maria Reynolds?

My fists curl, and it feels like my heart has hardened into stone.

Thanks to Alexander Hamilton, nobody will ever be able to hurt me again.

They will never get through to me.

I hope that he burns, and feels the fire of pain rip through him like it did to me.

I hope my Philip is waiting for me when I reunite with him.

And I pray that my Icarus of a husband will not be joining us.

-


End file.
